it’s 10:27 p.m

we’re sitting in my bedroom getting ready for the night, not caring what it has in store for us but knowing to be ready for anything. cross-legged and crouched by the mirror, you dust your eyelids in shimmery champagne and warm cinnamon gold. i fumble and have to reapply my eyeliner; when the wing slopes up to a perfect sharp point i smile with deep satisfaction and we give each other approving nods and sing-songy gorgeouss!s. the vodka is cheap and acrid but the orange juice is cool and sweet — they both do their job and we couldn’t get anything else soon enough, so who are we to complain? we take big happy gulps, let our knees wobble and our legs shiver as we wait outside for the uber. our chests warm and my face red and the brisk winds nipping at our arms until we pile into the car. we learn that our driver has 2 kids and knows all the words to Rap God by eminem, and we make him rap it as fast as he can before we say goodbye, tumbling out his toyota camry and flung into loudness and music and lights and so so many people people people, who dance and smile and take selfies and spill drinks and sling their arms around us even though we’ve never met. just like that, strangers-turned-friends over shared white claws and you are SO prettys as we fix our makeup in the bathroom. when the night dies down, we stumble into our apartment and moan between bites of hot, greasy cheesy bread, dripping ranch and marinara over the cardboard box and a little on the couch, but that’s ok. we don’t wake up until noon, and as we grumble over wasted time and aching heads, we grin, sheepishly, watching the day pass by and looking forward to doing it all over again.